Battle - a collab one-shot
by Flamespirit of the Storm
Summary: Battle. What is a battle? A short war? A extended fight? For Snowkit , a battle is none of this. A collab one-shot for the Night Stalkers Co-writer: Icy the Icicle Goddess Words: 2664 I hope you enjoy!


**Battle**

"Snowkit! Stay in the nursery! I'm going to go defend the camp!" Dovefeather meowed, giving the little white kitten a few laps of the ears, before bounding out of the nursery.

Snowkit looked up, her blue eyes wide in surprise.

"Mama? Who are the new cats? Are they visitors?" the inquisitive kitten flicked her slightly grey ears towards the camp entrance. The entrance was surrounded by writhing, battling cats. Some of them, she recognized as campmates. The small white she-cat registered a huge grey tom as their leader, Thistlestar and a few other warriors.

Snowkit jerked up in shock as her mother fled the nursery. The tiny ivory feline jumped forward, only to be knocked back into the nursery by a pretty silver tabby.

She looked up at the grey she-cat and squirmed under her firm grip. Snowkit spat out a mouthful of fur and meowed "Greyfeather! What's going on?"

The silverish tabby she-cat sat down, still keeping a paw on Snowkit. She meowed "Listen Snowkit. You can't go out there."

The small white feline looked up, crestfallen. She mewed "Why not?"

Greyfeather looked up, and Snowkit saw a small, still bleeding cut over Greyfeather's eye. The silver she-cat moved slightly out the way of the nursery entrance and meowed harshly "Because there's a battle going on."

"Stay in the nursery," the silver tabby ordered, finishing up.

"Fine." Snowkit sighed, but when the pretty she-cat left, the curious little kitten padded out again. A screech of pain made her swivel her head around, to see Dovefeather, pinned beneath a large black-and-white tom. His mouth was open, showing gleaming, sharp white teeth.

Snowkit yelped, a sound of pure pain. She jumped out the den and flung herself at the battle-hardened tom. He scoffed and took Dovefeather's throat in his jaws, ripping her open. Snowkit screeched and ran to her mother's side. Her white pelt was stained with blood, like a scattering of pebbles in a lake, like a fresh sprinkle of snow. She knelt down next to her mother's side.

"Mother! Wake up! You have to be alright!" Snowkit wailed, burying her nose into Dovefeather's limp fur.

Dovefeather opened one green eye and choked out "I-I-I L-" her voice was cut off in a gurgle and her head fell back limp. Her eye closed.

Thornstrike dodged yet another blow from a _Kittypet_ of all things - a filthy, collar wearing Kittypet - and leaped back into battle, thrusting a well-aimed blow towards a huge brown tom. His attacker was wearing a yellow, tattered collar. The tom scratched at Thornstrike's cheek. Blood splatted onto the dirt and Thornstrike spat out a mouthful of blood in frustration. He clawed at the tom again, finally managing to pin him down. But surprisingly, the Kittypet tucked his paws close to his body and wriggled out of his grasp, snarling with fury.

Thornstrike spat out a mouthful of brown fur, hissing furiously. He lunged for him again, but not until a rogue she-cat, wiry and lithe, landed squarely onto his back, digging her claws in. Thornstrike yowled with pain, twisting around, but the golden tabby just flipped him over so he was on his hind legs, dodging her blows, as well as trying to land some of his own.

Thornstrike yowled in fury and dealt a blow at the wiry she-cat. She dodged away from him, mouth twisted in a cruel smirk. The she-cat -Thornstrike had nicknamed her Wire- lunged at him, claws unsheathed, jaws open. He sprang forward, meeting 'Wire' mid-air. He scratched at the golden she-cat, watching in satisfaction as she wiped the blood from her face with a swipe with her tongue.

He had no time to rest however, because a huge black tom hurled himself at Thornstrike. The brown tom snarled and kicked back, throwing off 'Wire'. Lunging forward, Thornstrike bit into the black tom's shoulder.

He screeched with pain, and leaped at Thornstrike, knocking him over mid-air and lifting his long, jagged claws. They were sharp and white, and with hopelessness, Thornstrike closed his eyes, not bearing to see his body being destroyed. He gasped as something bowled into him, pushing him away. A black-and-white tom, Patchtail, lunged at the black tom, fangs bared. He bit into his hind leg and bent his head sharply, and with shock, Thornstrike looked on as he sent the huge black tom yowling, running away.

"Nice job," Thornstrike panted, acknowledging his Clanmate.

"Thanks," Patchtail replied. "You did pretty great too." He leaped back into the midst of battle.

Thornstrike nodded back at Patchtail and threw himself back into the thick of battle. Battles aren't fought by sitting at the side-lines.

Emberspike stood at the entrance of the elders den, watching as the battle was fought. She was standing in a fighting position, old muscles tense, scarred face drawn back into a snarl. One of her eyes had a long scar over it, causing Emberspike's face to be caught up in a permanent scowl. The elder had seen many, many battles. But this one was one of the worst.

And she was helpless. Unable to stop it. Unable to even help. Emberspike had been a great warrior, strong fighter. But her days of grander were over. The least she could do was hold the enemy off for a few seconds to let the rest of the elders escape.

A large, scarred white tom crashed into the elder's' den, his claws unsheathed, his lips drew back into a snarl. He leaped at Rabbiteye, and with horror, Emberspike knocked him off of the half-blind elder, growling with her pain as the rogue rained seemingly never-ending blows on her face, ripping open the scars that marked her face. Without thinking, one of her paws darted out, catching the rogue by surprise with that flick that she had loved to use when she was a warrior. Her claws ripped into his underbelly, and she watched coldly as he staggered backward, out of the den, gurgling over the dark red blood spurting out of his underbelly.

Emberspike rushed over to Rabbiteye, watching as bright scarlet blood poured out, rushing like a waterfall. She grabbed some moss and stuffed it against the elder's face, attempting to staunch the flow of blood.

Humph. She was stronger than she had thought. She had almost killed the burly rouge. She let herself feel a sudden rush of pride, then pulled it back as yet more blood spurted out Rabbiteye's face. She yowled "Violetstem! We need you!"

The thick-furred, sleek dark grey medicine cat hurried into the elder's' den, her violet eyes widening with horror when she saw Rabbiteye. She pressed some cobwebs over the wounds, making sure the thin, shiny strands stopped the bleeding. Violetstem glanced over at Emberspike and mewed "Can you pass me the Goldenrod? It's the green plant with yellow flowers."

The medicine cat spoke in a soothing voice. Emberspike nodded and grabbed the plant of her description. The sleek grey feline's eyes glowed with gratitude and she mewed "Thanks."

With a jolt, Emberspike remembered. Rabbiteye was Violetstem's mother. Emberspike felt a wave of sorrow for the pretty medicine cat - how in StarClan's name could a cat survive getting half their face getting ripped open? She looked back over at Rabbiteye. The dusky brown she-cat's face was covered in blood, moss and cobwebs. Her eyes were covered in deep, still oozing wounds. Emberspike could barely see Rabbiteye's copper orbs. Instead there was a mass of cuts, old and new.

Emberspike looked away.

"Hey Emberspike!" an urgent voice yowled. "We need you!" The elder blinked in surprise, turning to see Dapplelight standing at the entrance, her pale blue eyes rounded with fear. "We're outnumbered!" she exclaimed, beckoning to her, before diving back into the midst of battle. Emberspike followed reluctantly, glancing down at her old bones pressing at her thin, ragged pelt. I'm an elder! How can I— her thoughts cut off abruptly as a heavy weight landed on her back, pushing her easily to the ground. Long claws, which, to Emberspike's horror, were connected to dog teeth.

The long claws glinted with red blood, which stood out starkly amongst the greyish white claw. The elder snapped upward weakly but then gave in as a crushing pain appeared in her neck. Blood dripped down onto the ground in front of her. From a distance, Emberspike could hear a loud screaming sound. She dimly recognized it as herself. Blood squirted out of the wound on her neck, the deep cut in which jaws were fastened, tearing through muscle and bone.

The skinny ginger elder rolled back, green eyes opaque, staring upward at the grey and gloomy sky. A tiny, gasping breath escaped her mouth and the she-cat lay limp. She was dead.

A leader's job was hard. That was the only thing running through Thistlestar's head.

As a kit, the large tom had enjoyed play-battles. Kit-like scuffles. Small disagreements solved the moment they had begun.

But it wasn't like that as a leader. Not for one second. It was blood filled, screeching , yowling , furious endless combat. It was watching as your clan fell down at your paws. It was seeing warriors, kits, elders and apprentices dying.

And you were powerless to stop it.

Thistlestar whipped around as he heard a cat yowling. He narrowed his eyes. Was that... Emberspike? What was the elder doing out here? The leader leaped at the surprisingly small yellow tabby standing near her, and raked his claws across her shoulder, digging in until he felt warm blood drip down. He snarled viciously and bit into her hind leg as she attempted to run, biting hard until he felt bone. The she-cat screeched with pain, her fur spiked with blood. She yanked her paw back, sprinting away, but not until Thistlestar landed on her again, slicing his sharp white claws into her underbelly. Her yowls of pain blended in with the cries and wails of other cats, and then her body fell to the ground, streaked with blood.

"No one ever kills someone and gets away with it," Thistlestar hissed threateningly, before kicking her cold, lifeless body, his lip curling in disgust.

The grey tom could feel a tear welling in his eye. He blinked it away, looking over at the ginger elder curled in a ball on the floor. Her fur was soaked with blood and face twisted in a last snarl. The leader threw himself back into battle, launching at a pitch black tom. The tom yowled and clawed upright at Thistlestar. His whirling claws stuck Thistlestar across the face and the silverish tom spat out a mouthful of blood.

He ripped his claws across the tom's face and kicked out with his back-legs. The leader stalked off, looking for another cat to fight.

Emberspike- dead. Dovefeather - dead. Harestrike - dead. So many cats.

Rabbiteye - a huge, still bleeding cut across her face. She was probably soon to die.

Snowleap- his loyal deputy. A huge wound laced from her throat to her nose. She was huddled in the medicine cat's den. Blood everywhere.

Stormflight- his daughter. Her leg was twisted, broken beyond belief from being tossed across half the clearing. She had smacked her head on the stone and had been knocked unconscious. She probably wouldn't wake up.

So much death. So much blood. So much war. So much fighting.

And Thistlestar was powerless to stop it.

Power.

That was the only thing Cinder knew, or cared about.

And she almost had power.

She almost had power over her group of cats.

All she had to do was kill the leader.

And then she would have power over this 'clan'.

Once she had killed the leaders and the strongest, she would enslave the rest. Most of the cats were dead.

But some of her cats were dead.

She didn't really care about the others. She liked to think she didn't have feelings and had built a wall around herself. She had no friends, only allies.

But if she was missing cats, then she couldn't fight. Simple as that.

Cinder's eerie, heather-blue eyes darted around, searching for their leader. Aha! The large one must be it. She crouched down, the muscles rippling beneath her thick pelt. She bared her teeth, lunging forward. The rogue's claws slammed down onto the shocked cat's head, knocking him unconscious. Then, to make sure he wasn't still alive, she smashed him into a boulder. The cracks of broken bones and ripping pelt was unmistakable over the noise. Cinder stepped back from the body, wanting to end his life, and fast. She slit his throat, dropping his body on the ground.

So much blood...

Cinder smirked. Fang would be proud. He would have to make her second-in-command now, now that she'd killed their leader. Cries of loss echoed around the clearing.

"Thistlestar! Thistlestar is dead!"

Cinder's eyes narrowed, longing to sweep in and slash at all their throats. Those weaklings, she thought angrily. Cries turned into yowling, and the rogues ran out of the camp in triumph.

"Fang." Cinder approached the scarred black tom cautiously, dipping her head. "I killed Thistlestar," she informed him.

He spun around, hissing. "Cinder. The weakest cat in the group." He curled his lip in disgust. "Get out of my sight."

"B-but." Thoughts swarmed in her mind, and for a moment, the sky darkened with misery. "I-I thought..." she trailed off, stumbling back as Fang lifted a paw, his claws gleaming in the sunlight.

I did this for the group, and now I don't get anything? Rage was starting to take over Cinder, and without thinking, she slashed her claws at Fang's throat, ripping into his old, matted fur easily.

Perfect... Then Cinder ran, as fast as she could, until she escaped into the forest, away from the Clans, away from the group of cats she called her "denmates."

Snowkit lay huddled next to what was once her mother. The grey body was soaked with dark-red blood and her blue eyes were open, staring upwards, unseeing, towards the sky. Next to Dovefeather, Thistlestar's body lay, stretched out. His death-wound was a huge gash in his neck. Curled up in a ball, Emberspike lay, blood staining her scruff. Harestrike lay on the floor next to her, a large cut across her throat. Rabbiteye lay a few mouse-lengths away, her face, too damaged to be seen, turned away. Stormflight hadn't woken up.

Snowleap, her last words being "Make Appleheart deputy", was hunched in a corner. Her face was scarred beyond belief.

Snowkit now knew what battle was. And it wasn't what she had imagined. At all.

Then everything happened all too quickly. Darkness came over her vision, threatening to take her away into the stars. A flurry of blows rained down on her muzzle, and then one particularly vicious one stabbed into her throat. She screamed, agony flooding through her, and then everything went black.

...

"So much death..." Duskfire murmured.

Flamespirit nodded with agreement. "I didn't know they would kill this many cats." Her eyes glimmered with sympathy.

"No kidding," Duskfire muttered under his breath. "Well, we have to go welcome them, I suppose."

"You're right." Flamespirit's ginger ears angled to the side, and she started padding toward the lush green meadow where starry cats were heading in. Suddenly, something familiar caught Duskfire's eye. He peered closer, and realized... it was unmistakable. His kit and mate was within the group of cats that died in the battle…

He walked forward, and then broke into a run. He finished, panting at Dovefeather and Snowkit's side.

He closed his eyes and whispered "My love… I'm sorry you're here. But great StarClan, it's good to see you."

Dovefeather smiled and it felt like he had just became an apprentice, warrior, deputy, leader and father at once.

 _"Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes."_

 **Word total: 2660 (roughly)**


End file.
